


Too-Tight-I-Cannot-Breathe

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Sex, Corsetry, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22516660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: He doesn't even need to look to know his husband is smirking.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 34
Kudos: 478





	Too-Tight-I-Cannot-Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> thank you lonelyeyes discord server for making me break my 3 month long tma fic haitus for this

It's rare that they sleep together. 

Rarer still that both of them spend the entire night together. 

Almost entirely unheard of is Peter doing all of that in sequential order in Elias' apartment. The man has always been private, somehow even more so than Peter, and Peter's long since learned to not ask. They subsist on a mutual respect of privacy. And Peter's fine with it, for the most part. Elias spends most of his time in the office and Peter spends most of his time on a boat. There's still a lot of things he's not seen.

He stares, still in Elias' bed in the morning, at the framed plans of the prison where they hang on the wall, the originals that Smirke made just for him all those years ago, and listens to the shower run. He wonders when Smirke knew- really knew what Elias was asking for. If he had finishes and signed those plans before or after. 

The plans, along with the letters he hides, and a spare trinket here or there are all Elias has from- from Jonah Magnus. 

How a man could be alive for centuries and stay in one place astounds him every day.

The shower shuts off and then after a moment the man walks into the bedroom, naked sparing the towel thrown over his shoulders. He opens his closet, a walk in Peter also never saw the purpose off considering there wasn't an astonishing variety in his clothing. After a moment he heads back into the bathroom, bundle of fabric in hand, yawning. 

Huh. 

Has he ever seen him yawn before? It's oddly humanizing. Prim and proper Elias yawning- it's oddly cute too. His husband is cute sometimes, and Peter has to savor every instance of it. Peter sits up, rubbing his face some. His clothes are on the floor, a line from the front door to the bed. 

“When are you setting off?” Elias' voice is muffled through the thin door of the bathroom. 

“Soon.” He looks at a clock over the door. “Two hours.” 

“Hm.” And nothing more than that. They're done for the day, for a while maybe, and that's fine. Peter gets up slowly, swaying just a bit on his feet before picking up yesterday's boxers and sliding them on. His pants are by the door, and when he stands back up the bathroom door is open again. “Peter?” 

He has no idea where his belt is. 

“Do you know where my belt is?” 

“No.” Liar. Of course he does. “Could you do me a favor before you sail off into the great blue wonder?” 

“Is that what we're calling it these days?” A glance out in the hallway and now, it's not there either, but he does see the corner of his undershirt half way off of the kitchen counter. “What favor?” 

“Come over here.” He does, begrudgingly.

“What is-” 

The mirror is still fogged up from the shower. Elias has a stool pulled up to the counter, where he sits, pale shoulders, prim and proper. He's leaning forward to look at another smaller mirror, plucking away at his brows. 

And then there's the- 

The- 

He doesn't even need to look to know his husband is smirking. 

“Could you lace me up?” 

Bastard.

The corset is a delicate pale blue (and with his shoulders still red from his shower-), long and all the way down to his hips (he's not wearing anything else either). It looks ancient, though well maintained. His skin is still warm, Peter can tell even at the distance and all of sudden he's consumed with wanting to run his hands under the thing. 

“Never done that before.” He says because what else is there to day, of course he's going- 

“It's simple enough.” Peter catches his reflection in the smaller mirror now, definitely smirking. “Start at the top.” The laces look the newest, probably replaced after literal centuries of use. Peter lets his hands linger as he draws the laces straight, running his rough hands over the skin at the very edge. 

Elias shivers, pleased. 

“How old is it?” He asks, running a thumb along down Elias' spine just to watch him shiver again. 

“I bought it when I was seventeen. On a lark.” And then Peter sees a young faced Jonah, cheeks red, pushing money over a counter and but the image is replaced almost immediately with Jonah in a bedroom with a tape measure. “Same measurements,” He says and leans forward again. “What are the odds.” 

Probably extremely high, knowing Elias.

Peter pulls on the laces, and Elias shifts in his seat. 

“Too tight?” 

“Not yet.” 

He's being watched now, he can tell. Part of him wants to disappear, get to his ship early. Another part, that sits somewhere in between his legs incidentally, is perfectly content to stay. 

“Do you wear this- a lot?” 

Have you worn it when you were with me before, he means. 

“When the nostalgia overcomes me.” And Peter tugs harder when Elias laughs. “Occasionally.” 

“So you could do it up yourself?” 

“Of course I could. But where's the fun in that.” Where's the fun in teasing you, he means. So Peter tugs at the strings again and Elias gasps, still smiling. The sound is- the sound is nice. “There.” He smiles again. “Now it's tight.” 

His waist isn't heavily cinched, but his form has always been slight, and now Peter desperately tries to think back on when or if Elias has ever worn it before. And of course, every thought has is almost immediately replaced with Elias in only the corset, otherwise naked and on his knees, big eyes staring back up at him with the same grin he's wearing right now. 

He runs the laces along, tugging every now and again when Elias gives him a particularly salacious image to salivate over. 

“Aren't you lovely.” Peter says after Elias gives him the image of Elias on top of Peter, hands shoved down the front of the thing. 

“Aren't I?” Elias sets his tweezers down on the counter and pumps some lotion onto his hand. Right, he moisturizes. No wonder his skin is so soft. 

Peter bends over and kisses a spot on his neck, and Elias murmurs his appreciation, a hand reaching up to run through Peter's hair. 

“What do I do when I'm done?” He asks and kisses him again, a little higher. 

“Tie a bow.” 

“Like you're a gift?” 

“You know I am.” Peter snorts, takes a step back and looks it over. His bow is a little lopsided but, he's gorgeous, Elias is gorgeous, prim and proper and-

Between what mental tableau did he get hard? The one of Elias splayed out on his bed, panting in just his corset, come dripping out of him? Or maybe the one where Elias was bent over the railing of his ship, staring directly at him and smiling? Or maybe the one where Peter had him up against the door of his noticeably unlocked office? 

“Elias.” It's not a question but Elias nods all the same, standing up for a moment before setting his knees down on the stool he was sitting on. 

“Going to unwrap me?” His face is red, all the way up to his ears, so at least it's nice to know its mutual. 

“And throw away all my hard work?” Peter shoves his pants down, thank god he never found that belt, and rubs his cock lightly. 

“Think of me and my fragile constitution.” Peter reaches over and Elias nudges the lotion in his direction. He coats his fingers in it and presses inside. Elias gives him another lovely gasp for the his trouble.

“Elias.” Peter says, and adds another finger, collects another sigh. “We both know what you want.” 

“Yes.” Peter looks down and sees his toes curl, his hands grip the counter harder. “Yes we do.” 

Getting into him is easy, Elias likes it rougher and Peter can preform for him if he really wants to. He knows he's going to have the image of Elias bent over his counter in his pretty blue corset seared into his eyes for months at least, so really, it's the least he could do. 

Peter pushes a hand down on Elias' bare back, pressing him the rest of the way down on the counter and fucking into him in a smooth roll of the hips. Elias gasps again, he must have figured out that Peter likes the sound, mouth hanging open. 

He feels good, somehow even better than last night, and his cock bounces as Peter fucks him, dripping onto the floor. Peter wonders if he'll get off just like this, without even touching himself. Peter fucks him, skin slapping on skin while Elias gasps under him. He's warm, still warm or maybe warm all over and the heat feels good. 

Like it's swallowing him whole.

He loops a hand on his strings and Elias catches him in a feedback loop of 'touch me, you want to touch me' and 'fuck me harder' and 'don't you dare' and 'ruin me' and Peter almost has to disappear into the Lonely but Elias' hands shoot back and clutch onto his arms. 

“Don't you dare-” He snarls, hips thrusting back to get Peter as deep as he possibly can. “Don't you dare leave-” 

The desperation is new- 

New and mildly exciting. 

Peter grips Elias' hips, hard enough to leave bruises that will last for weeks while he's gone, and fucks him harder, hammering into him. 

“In or out-” He pants and Elias snarls again, still angry, even if he's stopped sending him pleas and demands. 

“If you stain- if you stain it-” Elias' nails dig into Peter's arms hard enough to scar too. “I'll never let you leave-” 

“Ha-” Peter barks a laugh, and Elias digs in harder, until he's bleeding onto the floor, spots of red on the mess already left there. The heat in the pit of his stomach makes him feel like he's going to implode and Elias, biting his lip, sends Peter more images of Elias full to bursting- 

He comes inside of him with a shout- and Elias thrusts back onto him until he gets what he wants and Elias spills too, collapsing onto the counter fully. 

“So you like the corset?” He's still breathless but Peter knows better than anyone that expecting him to be quiet is a fools errand. “I'm not surprised. 

“Where's my belt Elias?” Elias lifts up- barely- and points a hand further along the counter. “Has anyone ever told you you're insufferable?” 

“My employees do. Every day.” Peter pulls out adding to the mess on the floor and both of them sigh. “Take a shower.”

Stay, he hears even though the room is silent.

Always Stay. 

Peter doesn't say anything, but he takes the shower. When he comes out his clothes are neetly folded on the counter and Elias is in the kitchen pouring them both a cup of coffee. Elias sides him his mug, some novelty he picked up from America as a gift and Elias, as far as Peter is aware, doesn't drink from. It's as close to moving in as either of them would ever get to. A mug in an apartment he's barely in. 

He isn't complaining. 

He can see the outline of the corset under Elias' crisp white dress shirt. He is a little curvier, and Peter feeling bold, settles a hand on Elias' hip. 

“You look good.” 

Elias hums and drinks his coffee, tries and fails to hide his pleased smile. 

“Don't get used to it.” 

“You know me.” He leans down and kisses Elias' neck one last time. “I never do.” 

**Author's Note:**

> comments always very very appreciated
> 
> find me on[ tumblr ](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) and [ twitter](https://twitter.com/miurmiurmiur)


End file.
